Subjectivity
by perhapslater
Summary: "Idiots, both of them, wasting their entire free time over the scientific breakdown of love potions." In which Lily Evans refuses to believe that human emotions can be stripped down to bare objectivity, and acquires the assistance of James Potter to prove her theory.


**A/N: This was written for Jily Week on tumblr. Day Six, Prompt: Feelings.**

**Harry Potter isn't mine.**

It is seemingly unfair to ask of an eleven year old child to let go of the life she has always known and embrace a new, vastly different one. Even more unfair when the newly introduced life contains elements that make the child feel unwelcome. How can you ask two kids to race on the same tracks and then place them on completely different starting points? What can you expect of the child who has to not only deal with the opponent's unfair advantage, but also the rather unsubtle trickery they employ while the audience turns away their heads. And after all of this what becomes of the child, when her old way of life shuns her away and closes that door indefinitely.

So this child, now having spent almost seven years drifting between two different sorts of lives, both of which she belongs to, and both of which leave her cold and stranded had learnt to run faster than everybody else, to labour away more than anybody does and to jump over obstacles that most people in this race with her, don't face. And then when she is tired and broken, she barges on that door concealing her old life, and take tiny peeks into it. Then she is back at it again.

Living two lives is hard work.

If you explain this all to Lily Evans, she will probably smile warmly at you, and tell you to not think so much. Perhaps this is how life is spent, we struggle while we choose to remain oblivious about it. For if we knew of our everyday battles, and if we stopped to nurse all our injuries we would collapse before we even start. And so, like everybody else, Lily Evans battles on and shrugs away the injuries, accepting them as her normal.

If human beings decide to become aware about the emotions they feel, every moment of every day, perhaps they won't be able to take it. Human beings are funny that way, they can't comprehend as much as they can feel. Perhaps it is for the best.

But teetering between these two worlds, has offered Lily Evans advantages that perhaps most of her peers haven't been fortunate enough to gain. From a very early age, Lily Evans has learnt to differentiate between the objective and the subjective.

Helping an old friend in time of need:_ Subjectivity_. Old friend insulting her in front of the entire student population: _Subjectivity_. Feeling the world being ripped into two in the very core of her chest: _Subjectivity. _Walking away even when she feels like holding on to that friendship: _Objectivity._

It had come at the price of a broken heart, but it had come nonetheless. So Lily Evans had understood how to differentiate the objective from the subjective, and in doing so she had gained perspective in life. Her dual life quandary and her broken heart had provided her with a sense of maturity that many her age lacked.

And emotions, she had realized, emotions are what cause the lines between subjective and objective to blur. It is only when confronted with thoughts and feelings does a human being loses grasp on what is and what he wants it to be.

Arithmancy was objective; what is. Divination was subjective; what is, and what one wants it to be.

Perhaps unknowingly, but Lily Evans had started employing her perspective on to her coursework. Looking back at her school curriculum, she found several occasions where magic had meddled with emotions.

Charms was objective. Wave and flick; get the object to float. And then, it had went ahead and meddled with happiness: The Cheering Charm. Wave and flick; get a person to feel giddy. According to what Lily Evans had experienced in life, this should be impossible. The course matter was objective. Happiness was subjective. And when the two were mixed, subjectivity always had a way to rear its head. A person cannot choose _what is_ unless they make a conscious decision to let go of _what they want it to be_. So Lily Evans had experimented and tried the charm out on herself on a particularly rotten day. It had worked. In spite of her very adamant attitude to complain about her rotten luck to Dorcas later on. The sinking feeling that a bad day leaves lingered, weighing down on her chest but she had felt giddy nevertheless. So she laboured over her theory, day in and day out. Until she found her answer.

Muggles called this Nitrous Oxide. Or the Laughing Gas. You laugh without feeling happy. The Cheering Charm worked the same way. You don't feel _cheered up. _You feel giddy. It is not happiness, because the sense of sadness is still lurking. You are giddy, because you were made giddy. But you are _still _sad. Those are cheap tricks. You hold onto your subjectivity even when another emotion - crafted with objective charmwork - is forced upon you. Understanding the Cheering Charm led to an understanding of the Elixer to Induce Euphoria. Muggle kids call it, "smoking up", Lily had realized with a bit of an amused eye roll.

And so Lily had reached the Imperius Curse, and the always slightly Muggle little girl, who barged onto that old door, trying to take in little peeks, had tried to draw a parallel. Hypnosis, she had concluded. The theory was simple: You can't defeat the emotions and the subjectivity, so numb it. Leave out the option of what the human _wants_, only leave him with what needs to _be._ And even then, when the hold on any one emotion is strong enough, the spell can be broken.

And so when Lily had smelt that one potion with an odour unique to everyone else, in her first Potions class in the second term of her sixth year, she knew she was about to encounter another instance of magic trifling with emotions.

So Slughorn had made attempts to be funny, she had smiled politely at each of those attempts and then she had looked behind her to be met with a rather slouchy James Potter resting his chin in the cup of his palm, presumably upset about the rather notorious seating chart designed specifically for the Marauders after the fifth exploding incident this year, which left all four of them in the four corners of the classroom. He had given her a lazy, polite smile and she had smiled back warmly.

There was something about James Potter. There had always been something about him, even when he had just been the Potter Boy to her. Lily would be lying if she denied that she hadn't had to quench her smile more than once in his presence. He had a mean streak, this boy. But he also had a rather generous heart, that she had come to openly acknowledge in her, now rather _different_ company. She had been able to differentiate her subjectivity from her objectivity and come to see what the boy _was _rather what her biases had made him look like to her.

So Slughorn had told them the theory behind Amortentia, the strongest love potion in the world. He had given them the warnings, the pros and the cons, the history and the famous incidents where Amortentia had been at play.

"A rather deadly weapon in the hands of a woman," Slughorn had joked, and Lily felt herself cringe a little.

And then he had instructed them all to brew it. Fifty minutes later, Lily Evans left a rather impressed Potions professor in the dungeons and had hurried off to her next class. As per usual.

When the school day had ended however, and Lily had finally rested herself, she hurried off to the library. To research into this other, rather complex, example of emotions and magic acting together.

She had laboured. One book after the other. One theory, only to be crossed by the next. Sitting alone on a huge library table, probably scaring off her potential table sharers with the sheer size of the book-pyramid she had assembled in front of herself. In spite of all the hard work nothing provided a satisfying answer to how exactly Love Potions work. And to her utter dismay, nothing could be found in the Muggle World to parallel this invention of wizardry either.

She had then retracted her steps, and come to the conclusion that she needed help. She does realize, that she could just give up and act like any other student would, when their potion had been deemed the best in class. But this has become _personal_. The sleeves of her dark blue cardigan were now scrunched up at her elbows and her hair had been knotted into a messy bun at the back of her head. And with solid determination she had marched out of the library, table still a mess, in search of the only person she knows who would strive for hours just to figure out _how it worked._

She found him in the common room, lying on the couch in front of the hearth studying an old piece of parchment. He was still in his uniform, Lily noticed, lazy sod that he was.

"James," she called out from her position near the entrance portrait.

He looked up startled, hurried folding up the parchment and shoving it in his back pocket. Sitting up to acknowledge her, he nods, "Evans."

"Are you busy with anything at the moment?" she asks, taking a few steps towards him. He stands up in response, just because it felt _appropriate _to.

"Not really," he shrugs. "Why?"

She looks around before responding. The common room was scarcely populated, students perhaps choosing to laze away the cold January Monday in their beds. Just a bunch of fifth years in a corner and a group of second, perhaps first-years playing Exploding Snap near the window.

"I need your assistance with something," she begins. James nods in understanding, encouraging her to continue. "The Amortentia potion today, I was doing a bit of research -"

"But you brewed it perfectly in class," he immediately interrupts.

"I know," Lily responds. "Thanks," she adds as an afterthought. James smiles. She smiles back. She has no idea what is up with this smiling business that has started between them. But she likes smiling and apparently he likes smiling, and there is no reason really, to not smile at each other.

However, she continues, "I was researching the theory actually." She watches as James' eyebrows raise in alarm or surprise, she can't decipher. "And I am stuck at something," she tells him, "so I was wondering if you could help me out."

It takes a while before James responds. It is not like this is the first time, they had sought the other out for some sort of academic assistance. He had helped her after a particularly gruelling Transfiguration lesson and she had lent him her Charms essay after he had forgotten the deadline and asked her to just let him have a look so that he could "at least turn in a half-arsed attempt." And if Lily had to be perfectly honest, she had rather come to enjoy his intelligence and his company. They had decidedly grown closer during these tutoring sessions, a much needed improvement, after a rather tumultuous summer back home.

"But it's _potions," _ he finally says. Lily furrows her eyebrow quizzically at the response so he hastens to elaborate, "It's just add this. Add that. Stir clockwise. Stir anticlockwise. Realize you had to stir anti clockwise before you were to stir clockwise. Despair over your potential grade and start over again." His hands gestured all over the place. They spun clockwise when he mentioned 'anti clockwise' and clenched his hair when he talked about _his _despair over his own grade.

Hard as she tried to take him seriously, she lets out a giggle. He gives her a mock affronted look, so she giggles even more. He smiles. She smiles back. Oh the smiling business.

"And transfiguration is just wand-waving and spell-uttering, yet you felt the need to waste away an entire period arguing with McGonagall over the ethical issues involved in turning inanimate objects into animate objects," she teases, twinkle in her green eyes.

James grins sheepishly at her and runs a hand through his hair. She is still amused with his antics. He is a great person to be around that way, she had come to realize. He always somehow kept her mood, light. James Potter is the person you go to after a particularly bad day so that you could listen to particularly bad jokes and then laugh till your stomach hurts and your eyes water.

"But it's _potions_," James complains.

"Oh come on!" Lily urges, spreading her hands out in front of him, "Help a witch out, please?"

He sighs resignedly. "What's it about?" he asks.

"Come with me to the library, I'll explain on the way," she says, keeping one of her hands stretched as an invitation.

He takes it. Her hand. And she pulls him out of the common room.

So she tells him, on their way to the library, her rather tested formula about magic and emotions being mixed and subjectivity always winning over objectivity. About the Cheering Charm. And the Elixer to Induce Euphoria. And how the Imperius Curse had apparently caught on to the loophole and tried to numb the subjectivity before the subject is exposed to objective commands. James Potter's reactions had gone from incredulous to impressed to surprised to excited to enthusiastic. She liked that. She even told him about the Muggle replacements for all these and felt a sudden surge of pride for her heritage, when James' eyes lit up in interest. The conversation had to be quickly diverted however, when he asked her about the availability of "this laughing gas."

By the time, they reached the library James had some sort of a picture about Lily's predicament. "So basically, you don't know how the Love Potion uses objective theory to trump subjective emotions?"

"Yes!" Lily cries out, relieved at him understanding the source of her frustration.

"Alright then Evans," he says, folding up his sleeves, and moving towards the table he has rightly guessed to be hers, "Let's figure this one out."

Lily looked at him as he seated himself in front of her, wall of books between them. His white oxford shirt was creased and untucked, the knot of his tie down to the second button, sleeves folded so that they exposed his forearms, hair rumpled as usual and glasses, covering his hazel eyes, perched high on the nose. Lily wasn't blind and she can appreciate a thing of beauty when she sees it, thank you very much.

That wasn't important right now, however, she checked the wall clock to her right. Thirteen minutes past five, it read. She picked up the notes she had previously made and handed them to James for reference, then picking the book at the very top, _"Potions and their Theoretical Parameters" _ she got onto work.

They worked silently in the beginning, heads bent, eyebrows scrunched, scratching their hair and biting the tip of their quills. Only occasionally looking up to stretch their necks, pick up a different book or ask for Lily's previous notes. Once or twice, while he was still engrossed in his reading material James' hand had come to tap hers, all warm and large, for attention, but apparently he just shot down his own theory in his mind and shook his head slowly, still engrossed in reading, to indicate that it doesn't matter.

Until finally, he looked up so quick, Lily heard the tensed muscles in his neck crack. He winced, bringing a hand to the back of his neck to massage it, "Love Potions usually have a Veela DNA," he says finally looking at her. Lily nods, in agreement, she knows that. "They are acquired through Veela hair, spit or blood or even the nectar of acacia which shares a similar chemical combination."

"I understand," Lily tells him, leaning forward in interest.

"All right, so listen to this," he says, and then looks down to where his pointer had marked the text, "_The chemical combination of the nectar of Acacia, which is most commonly used to create a love potion, when consumed directly, triggers in the human body a hyper active production of Oxytocin. Oxytocin plays an important role in the __neuroanatomy of intimacy, specifically in __sexual reproduction__ of both sexes._ _For this reason, it is sometimes referred to as the 'bonding hormone.'" _He finishes reading, and looks up at her.

She has a smile playing on her lips and she is nodding in understanding. "That would explain the sudden surge of attraction, yes." She says.

"Right!" he exclaims enthusiastically, proud that they are getting somewhere with this, "And adding part of their own DNA would explain why the attraction is towards that one particular person."

"But that still doesn't explain the whole thing," Lily mumbles, pulling James' book towards himself so she could go over the text.

James leans forward, placing his weight on his hands, to look into the book, his breath ghosting over her face as he does so. She concentrates on the text before them. "What you just pointed out, " Lily begins, looking up at him, "suggests that instead of coming up with an objective connotation powerful enough to suppress the subjective emotions, the love potion takes the rather complex subjective variable and tries to strip it down to its core basics; the chemical combination."

James leans away, back to his original position, placing his back against the back-rest, stretching his legs under the table so that the side of his foot grazes the side of Lily's. Lily doesn't feel the need to change the position of her feet. His arms are crossed across his chest and he is looking at Lily with a look that displays hundred percent attention.

"But Slughorn told us of multiple cases in the past which suggest that people have conned other people into marriage by drugging them," she says. James sits straighter, placing his folded arms on the table in front of him. "Oxytocin only deals with physical attraction and intimacy. But there is only so much physical affection -"

"You mean sex," he says.

"Yes, I mean sex. Thanks for destroying my rather professional approach," she swats his arms, amusedly rolling her eyes. "There is only so much sex you can have to drive a marriage. There has to be some sort of an emotional connect. People have been married for as long as thirteen years under the effect of a love potion, only coming to their senses when their dosages were stopped. So where does the emotional connect come from?"

James groans at Lily's rather valid point. He rubs at his eyes under the glasses, so that the latter ride up to his forehead. Yawning a little, he positions his spectacles back in place. "So love potion only evokes a romantic version of love, doesn't it?" he asks. Lily nods her affirmation. "Alright so what if it is one particular formula for a spectrum of emotions, each targeting a specific set of hormones?"

Lily's eyes grow wide at the suggestion. "You can't brew an emotional experience, can you?" James just shrugs in response, helpless. "I mean anger and happiness and jealousy and sadness, how do you even come with the ratios for a spectrum that wide?"

"Merlin, Evans!" James implores, leaning his chair back and stretching himself to relax his muscles. Suddenly he is yanked by his tie so that he comes face to face with Lily Evans, a library table between them. "Careful there, Evans. You don't want me to think you're flirting."

Lily just sighs and shoves him away, "Prat."

He laughs. And Lily gives him a smile, which she admits to herself is only half sarcastic.

"But see, if I said I am flirting with you, that would make you happy, wouldn't it?" she asks.

"Rather presumptuous of you, Evans," James teases. Lily opens her mouth indignantly, but before she could respond he says, "Yes," he smiles, "it would."

Lily feels something akin to giddiness in the chest region. She decidedly ignores it. "But it won't be the same sort of happiness you will feel as you would feel after, say, winning the Quidditch Cup," she tries to explain.

"It wouldn't be yeah," James agrees.

"So what causes, not only happiness, but an entire spectrum of emotions, which seem socially appropriate?" Lily questions.

"Is it really necessary for the reactions to be socially appropriate, though?" James asks. Lily looks at him with interest, so he explains, "If a person is drugged and unaware, the reaction would look normal to him, while the person who is drugging will understand the cause of an inappropriate expression of emotion," he tells her. " I mean if person A reacts the same way to a marriage proposal as to a regular date, then Person B is probably aware of the cause."

"But wouldn't that raise suspicion with the people around them?" Lily asks, "And married couples have spent a good long time together, with one of them under the drug, in heavily populated Wizard Communities."

"Hmm," James says, absently, turning the pages of the book before him, looking for something that would bring some perspective into their findings.

"I mean the cheap love potions might make it fairly obvious, but the stronger ones need to be much more careful about - oh!" She suddenly stops, eyes widening in realization. Searching through the pile of the books, she finds _"Love Potions: Recipes"_. She ruffles through the pages, ending up in the section with the most complex connotations. She runs her finger down the list of ingredients of _Amortentia, _then _Amourseon, _and _Rakkausio_, all the love potions had Antimony as a common ingredient.

"Antimony dulls the human conscience," she mutters to herself. James looks up immediately, eyes wide. "All the most powerful love potions have Antimony in common," she tells him.

"Which dulls the conscience," he says, his lips beginning to turn upwards and Lily could hear the cogs turning in his head and she is beginning to smile large and wide because they might have just cracked it. "So while the Acacia nectar triggers the oxytocins to increase the physical attraction, Antimony dulls the conscience, but not completely destroys it. Which means that a person acts as they have been socialized to act, but their emotions are largely reactive to their partner's. And while physical intimacy is present, the person _believes_ himself to be in love when he really isn't." He concludes.

"They don't only try to strip the subjective down to its core objectives," she says, "they also make the subjective weak enough to be vulnerable to the socialization that the person has gone through over the year." She cries out happily and falls back against the chair, head lolling on the backrest.

Suddenly she hears James laughter and then she is laughing along. She sits back up, still laughing, she looks at him, and he is shaking his head, his expression mirroring her own of ridiculous triumph. She turns her head to look at the clock, it's twenty six minutes past eight in the evening. She turns back to look at James who had apparently noticed the time himself as well, and the peals of laughter double. Idiots, both of them, wasting their entire free time over the scientific breakdown of love potions.

Lily heaves, trying to get her laughing to stop. "But why doesn't anybody break through the effects of the love potion?" she asks.

James laughs even harder, "Oh Merlin, Lily. Stop!"

She lets out a laugh of her own. "No, but seriously," Lily insists, placing her hand atop his. "People can break out of the Imperius Curse, why not the love potion?" James stops laughing to look at her. "There has to be some sort of a negative reaction from the subjective variable that goes against the magic casted?"

James pauses for a while. "Maybe a reaction," he says before he stands up and starts walking towards the bookshelves.

"James!" she calls after him, surprised by his sudden gesture, she drags out her chair and makes to walk after him. Her legs feel sore, her bum hurts and looking around she realizes that they are alone in the library. She can't even see the librarian, Irma Pince. Which is probably a good thing, she realizes, given their rather raucous laughter a while ago.

Lost in her thoughts, she bumps into James, who looks up at the collision. "Sorry," she apologizes. He shrugs in response, raising the journal in his hands to show her. "_British Statistics from the years 1945-1965: Issued by the Ministry of Magic."_

Lily looks at him confused, until he opens the journal and checks the index for the divorce rates in the magical community. Lily catches on. They quickly scour through the statistics. "Seventy three percent of the divorces show an involvement of love potion at some point." He tells her.

"Look through the domestic abuse stats," she advices.

He goes back to the index, to check for the page number and then swiftly turns to page two hundred and seven. "Fifty seven percent of the victims claim that they were drugged with the love potion," Lily says, "Which means there _is_ a reaction. The results of a person being drugged indicate an instance of magic trifling with emotions."

Lily looks up at James, who is looking back at her, wearing a proud smile. And before, she could think this through, she throws her arms around him. In relief, in triumph, in giddiness, maybe in a mix of all. And he hugs her back. And it is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

"We have missed dinner," he says, still hugging her.

"And curfew is in half an hour," she replies, hugging him back. Their chests rumble with laughter.

He pulls back. "I'll be heading to the kitchens then," he tells her with a mock bow.

"Help me clean up the table," she says, "Then I will come with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "Evans, shouldn't you be living up to your prefect duties and admonishing me?" He teases, smirking.

"I am a prefect James," she tells him, pulling him by the hand towards their table, "But I am also hungry."

James laughs.

Perhaps, the reason the Love Potion doesn't try to come up with an entire spectrum of emotions is because the spectrum is too complex. It's all subjective. It's the smiling business and the not so subtle invitations to flirt. It's the grazing of skin against skin and the shared frustration over rather unnecessary curiosity. It's the laughter of relief and the giddiness. It's about throwing arms around each other in success and euphoria. It's all subjective. It's about the little moments shared that lead to something enormous. It's about meaningless meetings and hours wasted for each other.

Perhaps they will come to terms with this sort of subjectivity one day. For now, let there be theories, famished and tired bodies and unallowed trips to the kitchens.

**Reviews will be extremely appreciated, thankyou!**


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